Irony.

Foggy yet conspicuous;
Shattered yet held together.
Arms of the same human.
One palm, holds in it, what it already has.
Time flows by , the palm is filled still.
Another fancy dream comes along.
The second hand runs to hold it.
The other filled palm, loses what it had,
and it falls down.
Perhaps what is taken for granted ,
may leave us and go.
But nature has a way with irony.
Irony of its own kind.
The precious of the previous day,
has fallen, yet remained, where it was.
Awaiting, for this hand to come,
back again and enthrone it.

-Alisha

Magic is bound to happen

When not together, words seem to take up,
an unending flow.

There is so much to say and so much to hear.There is so much to understand, and explain. There is so much to feel and make feel.
But when , togetherness come into being, when the separation for so long is over, words lose their path. Words themselves, are lost.

Glances and glimpses , shy smiles, obvious blushes say it all.

Hidden ways of noticing each other , small implications saying "I am there" , naughty smiles , and pondering around each other yet not saying anything , all of this makes the heart feel a strong impulse , makes the love and care pass from one heart to another.

Hold on to yourself.Let words in real sense , do it for once. Let it happen fearlessly. just for once.Magic is bound to happen.

One of a kind..

Pains of the hollow soul;
Soul that was emptied;
Emptied by your magic touch.
Your magic touch, which was an irony.
An irony , to my existence.
My existence as a whole.
As a whole , being far or close to you.
Neither was I so close,
Now was I so far,
That you could not breathe,
That you could not find me.
Emptied souls of solitude,
No other I find.
You left me bewildered,
and one of a kind.

-Alisha

When..

Distances never end,
When i need to reach you.
Summers never come,
When I need the road dry.
Rivers remain still,
When the boat needs to move.

I face slips and falls,
When I need to climb.
You never look back,
When behind , you leave me
Bleeding and weeping,
And there is no herb to heal.

-Alisha

Yesterday

Sometimes, the "today" I live, becomes , a chunk of reality pulled out of the "yesterday" I survived ; tossed up with some experimental inferences i made and the little experiential knowledge i have ; served with a dash of naturalistic implementation.

Not all that I know, and all I do;
Is something fresh and something new.
Some lessons learned were here to stay,
As oblivious memories of "Yesterday".
To let go was when, I did not look back,
To all that turned, the bright to black.
To hold on was when,I walked with it,
All that filled, the deficit.
Sometimes I died, with a throbbing pain,
And wept to heal, but all in vain
. Yet again, at times , I was born;
I softened all the pricking thorns.
A practiced smile ,and hidden tears,
Were friends in times ,of silent fears.
I was with me , when the smiles were true;
And life existed in every hue.
'Each day is a gift, that we call "life"
A gift of comfort, a gift of strife."
These easy words, were hard to learn.
The road was long, and full of turns.
But,
some lessons learned ,were here to stay,
As oblivious memories of "Yesterday".

-Alisha

We call it "life"...

At times, a small thing can touch your soul and leave it in ripples. These ripples keep you alive forever...
You begin experiencing a strange sense of belonging! You begin to live through an "absurd" or rather "mystic" romance...

You might end up feeling, as if you have walked way ahead of your own self... U might feel as if... you hve reached a position frm where u cannot look back..

But NO! you keep dragging urself.. and at sum point of time... u begin incorporating your feeling..your zeal...ur hope n ur dreams.. into this "dragging".. and finally end up calling it "life"....